Emma's POV

　　My shoulders sag in defeat. "Well, I...um..." His intense stare makes it hard for me to think straight. "Can I head back to my pack?" I ask, and he narrows his gaze.

　　"Why? Didn't you say they didn't want you because you're a suspect in that girl's case?"

　　"Ava. That's her name. And she was my best friend," I whisper, feeling a tightness in my chest. "You might think that I killed her, but I really loved and cared for her."

　　His eyes soften a little, and he turns his gaze to the hedges of the garden. "If you want to search for clues, you can't do that in your pack. Someone will find you, and you'll be punished."

　　My lips purse. "I know. But I still want to see if I can find anything. If I don't try, I'll never know." I look at the ground below, shifting my weight from one foot to the other.

　　"You can look for clues without stepping back into Moonshadow," his voice comes, and my head jerks up. His expression hasn't changed a bit. "You can search for data regarding her death on my office computer. Many blogs have been posted about your friend's case, and there are news articles too. If you're lucky, you'll find some pictures of the crime scene which haven't been shared anywhere else through the dark web."

　　My eyes glisten with hope. "W-will you allow me to use your office computer?"

　　"Only when I'm there to keep an eye on you. If you try anything funny, you know what will happen," he warns me, but it doesn't dampen the little ray of hope growing inside me.

　　"I won't!" I assert firmly, nodding and offering a small smile.

　　"Fine. Get inside, and wait for me," he commands, jerking his chin towards the entrance of the packhouse. I quickly comply, darting back inside and taking a seat as instructed.

　　An hour later, I hear footsteps and see Matthews entering the foyer. His gaze lands on me, and he frowns. "You're still here."

　　I rise from the chair, feeling a bit stiff from sitting in the same spot for so long. "Yeah, you told me to wait."

　　He stares at me, a hint of surprise flickering across his features. Clearly, he hadn't expected me to actually wait for him. While I'm a tad frustrated by the wait, I know I can't afford to miss this chance. If there's even a small possibility of finding a clue or lead on Ava's case through Matthews's computer, I'll seize it.

　　"Follow me," he orders briskly, striding ahead with his broad back facing me.

　　"He must work out a lot," I note to myself, admiring the strong lines of his back as he walks ahead.

　　I follow Matthew into his office, the stark minimalism hitting me like a punch to the gut. The room is devoid of warmth, with cold, bare walls and a desk so neat it's almost oppressive. A single computer sits like a sentinel on his desk, casting a harsh glow in the otherwise dark space.

　　I can't help but roll my eyes as I take in the scene. "Wow, Matthew, I see you've really embraced the whole 'less is more' aesthetic here," I quip, my sarcasm dripping like honey.

　　Matthew shoots me a glare that could freeze lava. "Very funny, Emma," he retorts, his tone clipped.

　　I smirk, knowing I've hit a nerve. "Seriously though, where's all your stuff? You know, books, papers, random junk you never throw away?"

　　Matthew sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "I like to keep things organized, Emma. Unlike some people."

　　I raise an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Hey, I am not disorganized!"

　　The corner of his lips tug in a smirk, "Yeah, sure. Your room looked very clean when I entered it once."

　　"You shouldn't be entering my room without my permission. Seriously, learn some manners for a change," I retort, crossing my arms.

　　"By 'yours' you mean the room I gave to you. It's my territory, Emma. I can do whatever I like," There is that smug look on his face. Well, he's not wrong but his words are getting on my nerves.

　　Matthew gestures toward his computer, his fingers hovering over the keyboard as he types in the password. I watch, feigning disinterest as he hides it from me, a sarcastic comment at the tip of my tongue.

　　"I won't hack your computer, Matthew, promise," I say, my tone dripping with sarcasm.

　　He shoots me a pointed look before turning back to the screen. "Better safe than sorry, Emma," he replies, his voice serious.

　　I roll my eyes but say nothing as he finally unlocks the computer and allows me to take his seat. The leather chair is cold against my skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of Matthew's office.